Goodbye
by zelda49
Summary: [SC] She stood at the foot of his grave, remembering.


A/N: So the combination of watching "Lost Son" again this afternoon and the great Calleigh/Speed fics I've read lately finally got to me :-P This is my contribution to the pairing, one that I can't promise I'll write again, but that I did enjoy working with. The itallics are lyrics from the first verse of Emmylou Harris's song _Goodbye_.

* * *

Calleigh stood in the cemetery at the foot of his grave, the bright sun shining overhead, mocking her mercilessly, reminding her that other people were happy on this day. She pulled off her sunglasses in defiance, wishing for a dark overcast sky, even a steady downpour of rain, to match the way she felt. It was a year ago today that Tim had been killed, and no dazzling day was going to make her forget that. 

_I remember holdin' on to you_

One of her favorite memories of him was their first "date". She had had a tough day, too much evidence to process and not enough time to give it all the time it deserved while still meeting deadlines set by judges and DAs and defense attorneys. Four hours past the time she should have clocked out she took a gun from the gun locker over to the range, unloading an entire magazine into the gel block, looking for some kind of therapeutic release. She pulled the trigger several more times even after expending all the ammunition, knowing and yet still becoming angrier when the gun only clicked. At that point, her frustration boiled over and she threw the gun as hard as she could down range, losing the battle to keep herself under control any longer.

Tim, in the midst of his regular shift, had come by to ask a question but instead had been a witness to her outburst. Instead of calling attention to her or trying to talk her into calming down, he had simply gone to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close, his silent understanding doing more for her than words ever could. He'd taken her to a quiet corner of the lab where they wouldn't be found and let her talk out her aggravations when she was ready, sitting beside her on a step, unflinching when she looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. She'd been embarrassed about her conduct the next day, but he had merely smiled a small, knowing smile at her, asking if the next time she had a meltdown, he could be invited to that one, too.

_All them long and lonely nights I put you through_

There had been other late nights at the lab, too—many that did not involve Tim. She was a workaholic, she knew, and no matter how far their relationship progressed, she just couldn't make herself slow down at work any more than she could make herself stop breathing. He wasn't as passionate about their work as she, having confessed on at least one occasion that this job was "just a paycheck" to him. There were cases now and then that really hit home, but for the most part he put all his energy into his work during his shift, then shed his CSI mentality with his lab coat as he walked out the door.

One night he'd called her, asking her to come over when she finished up whatever she was working on. She had replied that she'd be done in just a few minutes, but a few minutes had turned into several hours and she hadn't called him to tell him she'd be late. She had jumped into her car and driven over to his place, searching for any signs of its occupant still awake inside. Against her better judgment, she approached the door and knocked, glancing at her watch and wondering how mad he would be. When he opened the door, though, it wasn't anger that was written on his face. It was affection.

"How was work?" he had asked, holding the door open as she entered.

"Long," she answered sheepishly. "But you knew that."

"I did, yeah."

"I'm so sorry, Tim—time just got away from me…"

"It's okay," he had told her.

"But I should have called…you must have been so bored waiting all this time for me."

"Not bored. Lonely," he corrected. He had reached for her then, cupping her cheek gently with one of his large hands. "But I'm not anymore."

_Somewhere in there I'm sure I made you cry_

Once. Only once did she remember Tim shedding tears, but he had consistently denied it whenever she brought it up. It was the first time he told her he loved her, in that same quiet corner of the lab where he had comforted her. He had chosen the normally empty room to work in, catching up on reports and overdue paperwork with the help of a large cup of coffee and his portable CD player. He hadn't heard her come in, but when her hand gently gripped one shoulder then slid across his back to the other, paperwork suddenly became less important.

He had smiled at her, the small, for-her-eyes-only smile that only she could bring to his lips, and removed his earphones. He had restrained himself from drawing her to him and kissing her, but it had taken every ounce of energy he possessed. She noticed the strain and laughed softly, taking a seat next to him as she brushed her long blond hair from her face. His heart ached at the sight, not only because of her physical beauty, he realized, but because of what she meant to him. It was hard for him to talk about his emotions so he always tried to convey his feelings toward her through his actions. At that moment, though, the words tumbled gently from his lips of their own volition. A tear slipped down his cheek, followed by another and another as the enormity of his statement sunk in. She had wiped them away, her own eyes sparkling with happiness, understanding the full weight of the phrase and echoing it back to him.

_But I can't remember if we said goodbye_

A tear dripped from her nose, landing on her sleeve as she wrapped her arms around herself, bringing her back to her current surroundings. She had been over the memories countless times, laughing, crying, loving, and mourning during the past year. But one thing had kept her from finding peace.

She had wracked her brain, trying every trick and exercise she knew to help her remember, but none of them had worked. She could see in her mind's eye Tim walking out the door in the morning, heading to work before her to deflect any suspicion from their colleagues. She remembered passing by him a few times at the lab, and knew that she saw him just before he left on the call-out to the boat. She could even still hear his voice mumbling to himself as he worked that day. But, try as she might, she couldn't remember if she'd told him goodbye before he'd left for the jewelry store with Horatio. It was a minor detail, but one that seemed so significant to her now. He had died quickly, and she hadn't been able to say goodbye to him before he left this earth. She hadn't been able to bring herself to visit him in the morgue, either, to see him lying on a slab like so many other bodies. And at the funeral, she had kept her mind occupied tending to her coworkers, offering her condolences to Tim's parents. She hadn't said goodbye to him, then, either.

"If only I could remember," she whispered, another tear following the trail of the first. "I hope I said goodbye to you, Tim. Because whenever I said goodbye, I told you I loved you, and I hope I told you how much I loved you that day."

The tears came in pairs and triples now, running down her face toward his grave. If only she could remember saying goodbye to him once that day, maybe the pain would lessen, maybe the ache in her heart would dull, maybe the tears would stop flowing. Maybe she could begin to let him go.

_No I can't remember if we said goodbye_


End file.
